wait for a while and we shall surely sing
Woo! Taxes are done AND accepted! (well, by the Fed; NYS is always slower.) I'm getting a nice refund, which will pay for my trip to see 
devildoll to see the Avengers eleventy million times in 3.5 days.
*
I wrote not-fic via text last night and posted it to tumblr this afternoon, but I'm putting it here so I can find it again. It will probably be repurposed and folded into something I'm working on.
4 am
The thing is, Bucky isn't angry that he died, that Steve couldn't save him. It was a war, and better him than Steve.
But at 4 am, when he shakes awake in a cold sweat out of nightmares of being taken apart and put together again by strangers with disturbing eagerness in their voices, he kind of resents that Steve never came back for his body. That he was being tortured and Steve never even knew.
He knows it's irrational, but he can’t help but think he would have torn the world apart, Hydra be damned, if their positions had been reversed.
In the cold light of day, when he’s feeling more reasonable, he knows he'd have let it go, because Steve would have said saving the world is more important than finding one man, no matter who he was--especially if that man was dead--and Bucky would have tried to live up to Steve's ideals. And he feels even worse when he thinks about how Steve did sacrifice himself. All those years under the ice. Bucky shivers just thinking about it.
But those 4 am thoughts, when he wakes up feeling like he's still strapped down on that table, waiting for Steve to rescue him while he's slowly being turned into a nightmare himself, are the worst.
*
For lunch, we had my dad's freshly made Irish soda bread, and I'm waiting to be called for the corned beef and cabbage. I hope everyone who is celebrating St. Patrick's Day is doing so safely.
*
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/445217.html.
people have commented there.
devildoll to see the Avengers eleventy million times in 3.5 days.
*
I wrote not-fic via text last night and posted it to tumblr this afternoon, but I'm putting it here so I can find it again. It will probably be repurposed and folded into something I'm working on.
4 am
The thing is, Bucky isn't angry that he died, that Steve couldn't save him. It was a war, and better him than Steve.
But at 4 am, when he shakes awake in a cold sweat out of nightmares of being taken apart and put together again by strangers with disturbing eagerness in their voices, he kind of resents that Steve never came back for his body. That he was being tortured and Steve never even knew.
He knows it's irrational, but he can’t help but think he would have torn the world apart, Hydra be damned, if their positions had been reversed.
In the cold light of day, when he’s feeling more reasonable, he knows he'd have let it go, because Steve would have said saving the world is more important than finding one man, no matter who he was--especially if that man was dead--and Bucky would have tried to live up to Steve's ideals. And he feels even worse when he thinks about how Steve did sacrifice himself. All those years under the ice. Bucky shivers just thinking about it.
But those 4 am thoughts, when he wakes up feeling like he's still strapped down on that table, waiting for Steve to rescue him while he's slowly being turned into a nightmare himself, are the worst.
*
For lunch, we had my dad's freshly made Irish soda bread, and I'm waiting to be called for the corned beef and cabbage. I hope everyone who is celebrating St. Patrick's Day is doing so safely.
*
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/445217.html.
people have commented there.